The Five Knots

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The Five Knots Page 30

by Fred M. White


  *CHAPTER XXX*

  *A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING*

  Wilfrid walked slowly back to Bloomsbury, his own affairs uppermost inhis mind. His morning had not been wasted. He had found out severalthings likely to be of use to him, but, on the other hand, the time wasso short that it seemed almost impossible to save the situation. Therewas an outside chance that his friend Vardon might have been able toraise the money, but no information had come from him, and in such casesno news is bad news. The security had undoubtedly found its way intoCotter's hands and no time would be lost in making use of the weapon.The mere thought was maddening. Here was a man lying on his death-bed,yet ready to strike at another man, who, on two occasions had risked hislife for him. It would have been better to allow those poisonous littleEasterns to have their own way and remove a scoundrel like Floweraltogether. Still, there was a chance yet, and Wilfrid meant to takeadvantage of it if he had the opportunity. He was not beaten.

  Beatrice's pale white face glancing wearily through the drawing-roomwindow recalled him to himself. There was better news, on the whole,than Wilfrid had expected. Shelton's operation had been partiallysuccessful, and he and his colleague were waiting for Wilfrid's return.

  "You haven't very much to do," Shelton explained. "The nurse I havechosen will be here at any moment and she will take your place. You willfind certain medicines upstairs which you will know what to do with."

  Shelton departed hurriedly, after the manner of his kind, and Wilfridmade his way to the sick room. Beatrice followed him fearfully with awhispered request to be permitted to see how the injured man was, andWilfrid had not the heart to refuse.

  "It must be only a moment, then," he said. "I have no right to havestayed here so long. I ought to have been back in Oldborough hours ago.You must promise to be quiet and not speak a single word if I admit youinto the sick room."

  Beatrice gave the assurance and they crept into the bedroom silentlytogether. Flower lay with his eyes wide open, gazing about the room ina strange, lack-lustre fashion. Evidently he had not the remotestnotion where he was or what was taking place around him. He murmuredfrom time to time a medley of things in which the shrewdness of a manand the innocence of a child were curiously mingled. Wilfrid seemed tohear sounds of some one moving in the dressing-room beyond, and helooked into the room, where he saw Cotter in the act of placing somepapers in a desk. Flower's confidential clerk looked up guiltily as hisglance met Wilfrid's eye.

  "What are you doing here?" Wilfrid asked sternly. "Don't you know thatnobody but the doctor and the nurse are allowed here? And why are youtampering with those papers?"

  "I am not," Cotter stammered. "I swear I am not. I am only puttingaway a few documents which my master told me to fetch from the City thismorning. I am very sorry, sir, but I won't come back again. Is hebetter?"

  Wilfrid turned on his heel without reply. No sooner had Cotter left thedressing-room than Wilfrid was back in the bedroom intent on getting ridof Beatrice also. It was useless for the girl to stay, for she could donothing except stand there with eyes full of tears of pity and sorrow.Wilfrid led her out to the landing.

  "You must not come here again," he said. "I will leave directly thenurse arrives. I have to call upon a friend and then I must get back toOldborough without delay."

  "Is there any hope?" Beatrice asked.

  "I cannot say," Wilfrid replied. "It may be days before we are sure ofthat, and whatever happens, remember that you are safe. These peoplewho come and go in this mysterious fashion have no feeling against you.It is only your uncle who is the object of their vengeance."

  "But, surely, the police ought to know," Beatrice protested.

  "I am not sure of that," Wilfrid said. "If your uncle were well and wesuggested calling the police, I am certain that he would oppose the ideastrongly."

  A little colour crept into Beatrice's face.

  "You speak so strangely," she said. "You hint at such dark things. Doyou know that all the years I have lived with my uncle I have neverfound him anything but the best of men? It is only latterly that thiscloud has come between us. There was none of it until you came into mylife again."

  The words were quietly spoken, yet they stung Wilfrid to the core.

  "That is easily remedied," he said bitterly. "I can take myself out ofyour life as I brought myself into it. I could school myself to forgetyou in time. But do not forget that I have saved your uncle's lifetwice, though, in so doing, I have rendered a very doubtful service tohumanity."

  "What do you mean?" Beatrice asked hotly.

  Wilfrid advanced a step or two closer and took the girl's hands in his.His face was grave and set.

  "Then I will tell you," he said. "Samuel Flower might have been evenmore to you than you say he has, but that does not prevent him frombeing a great scoundrel. You may bridle and colour, but I ask you tohear me to the finish. You may say, quite sincerely, you have neverheard anything of this before. But if you could go amongst business menwho knew nothing of your relationship to Samuel Flower, and ask themwhat they thought of him and his methods, you would learn some startlingthings. Do you know that for over two years I was a servant of youruncle's on board one of his ships? Have you ever heard him mention aboat called the _Guelder Rose_?"

  "I have heard of it," Beatrice murmured. "There was a mutiny on boardand a great loss of life. It was a shameful thing altogether, and if myuncle had cared to bring the mutineers to justice most of them wouldhave suffered long terms of imprisonment, but he refrained from doingso----"

  "Because he was afraid," Wilfrid said sternly. "He dared not face theordeal of a court of justice. I was the doctor on board that ill-fatedboat and could tell you all about it. If I could only put my hand uponone other survivor, poor and friendless as I am, I would fight youruncle to the last gasp. I hesitated to come to Maldon Grange the day Iwas sent for, because I was afraid I might be recognized and have to paythe penalty of my interference in that mutiny. And I was recognized--Irealized that almost as soon as I entered the house."

  "My uncle said nothing to me," Beatrice protested.

  "Oh, no, he would not," Wilfrid said bitterly. "That is not the way inwhich he works, but he has lost no time in trying to ruin me. He lostno time in getting into communication with the people from whom Iborrowed money to buy my practice. He bought the security I gave, andif the money is not forthcoming to-morrow, I shall be a ruined manwithout a house over my head. I daresay you wonder why I tell you this,but sooner or later you are bound to know, and if it happens thatsomebody else----"

  What more Wilfrid might have said was cut short by a sudden moan fromthe bedroom. Without another word Wilfrid turned and Beatrice creptsilently down the stairs.

  It was only for a moment or two, however, and the patient lapsed intothe absent stage again. The minutes were creeping along; the nurse wouldbe here soon and Wilfrid would be glad to turn his back upon that houseof mystery. His mind was full of his own troubles; he found histhoughts wandering to the desk in the dressing-room where he had seenCotter arranging those papers. Then it suddenly struck him that thesecurity he was in search of was actually within his grasp. As far ashe could see, Cotter had not even turned the key in the desk.Overwhelming curiosity drew Wilfrid from his seat and impelled hislingering footsteps towards the dressing-room.

  Here was the desk with the key still in it. There was the heap of papersin the top drawer. A long, pale blue slip with a red stamp in the cornercaught his eye. There was no occasion for him to ask what it was. Hecould see his own bold handwriting across it. Here was the preciousdocument that meant so much to him, so little for the man in the nextroom. He had only to tear it in two and throw the fragments in the fireand he would be free from all anxiety for ever. It was only for amoment, but that moment was long enough, for the dressing-room doorstood open and the shadow of Beatrice blocked the light.

  "The nurse is here," she said coldly. He
r eyes were fixed upon thepaper which Wilfrid held in his hand. "I thought I would bring her thisway. And now, Dr. Mercer, don't you think that we shall be able todispense with your services?"

 

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